


Alone and Forgotten

by orphan_account



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Other, im a literal piece of trash someone help me, maybe some nudity, maybe some stuff, maybe some torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3564674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A peaceful night turns not-so-peaceful. Jo ends up in our least-favorite immortal's clutches. Things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone and Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> yeah ok i know this chapter is short. i tried. next ones will be longer, 200% promise c:

Jo saw her breath forming in vaporous clouds in front of her. Overhead, a streetlight flickered as she walked alongside Henry.

There was a silence, but a rather comfortable one; it kept Jo happy, and Henry seemed to show no signs of interrupting it.

Before Jo wanted this relaxed stroll to be over, it was. Henry paused, bid the detective a brief farewell, and walked toward the antique store.

Jo let out a long sigh; her breath clouded before her once again.

Walking alone was not as nice as walking with someone–especially with Henry–but it was enough so that she felt at ease making her way to her home. After several attempts to hail a cab had failed, she'd simply given up, deciding that she needed the exercise anyway.

She turned the corner down a relatively quiet street and enjoyed the serenity, becoming lost in her thoughts.

The detective was not too lost, however, to notice the beaten-up tagless sedan slow down as it drove by her. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and willed them to go down. _It's nothing_ , she told herself.

She was warily unsure of that when the car made a sharp U-turn and stopped a few feet away from her. Hearing the car's door open and slam shut, she bolted. Something was not right.

Footsteps sounded behind her. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as she pushed on, forcing herself to move faster.

She stepped off the curb and crossed, hoping the now-red light would stop her pursuer.

It didn't.

She felt her energy waning away and pushed herself on. _Don't stop. Don't stop_.

Her foot landed incorrectly and she stumbled, falling, immediately jumping back up and whipping around.

She was greeted by a forceful backhand to the jaw. A cry of pain escaped from the detective as she slapped at empty air, walking backwards with the impact. She slammed into a street pole and winced, feeling hot tears threateningly sting at her eyes.

A male voice–disapproving, dark, raspy, cold, but eerily calm–spoke. "Naughty." A dry laugh followed, humorless and frightening.

She felt a hard kick in her legs and screamed, crumbling to the floor in a tearful heap. Uncontrollable sobs racked at her aching body and she looked up, helpless, quivering with fear and pain and utter vulnerability. "P-please..."

Jo could not see the man's face, nor recognize any of his features; however, she did see him smile–no happiness held–before his boot came into contact with her face, and she slipped into darkness with tears rolling down her cheeks.

**+x+x+**

Jo awoke the next morning and for a moment had forgotten everything that had happened the night prior. Only when the stabbing pain in the back of her head began and everything suddenly turned discomfortingly blurry did she remember.

She sat up, her whole body screaming a painful resistance, and examined her surroundings. A dark, square-shaped beige room with a single tiny window at the top, the first traces of dawn trickling through the glass. A white-painted door with scratches and cracks in it, scuffed paint, gray doorknob. A sink, soap, a mirror, a toilet, an empty closet.

Crawling pathetically over to the door, she got on her knees, her shin burning with agony, and twisted the doorknob.

_Of course_. Her captor–should she even call him that?–wasn't stupid. It was locked, as she'd expected.

She slid over to the wall and used it to propel herself into a shaky standing position. Everything hurt. She reached to her face and scraped dried blood from her nose, mouth, and forehead with her nails. She didn't dare look in the mirror, but she knew one of her cheeks was swollen; she could feel it.

There was a clicking at the door. Jo whipped her head over expectantly. The same tall man she'd been attacked by entered the room, and with the dim sunlight she could see him.

_A lanky mid-30s Caucasian male_. She filed that away for later. He wore a dark gray cap and a black coat, along with black pants and boots. _Looks like he's going to a funeral_.

"Ah, Detective Martinez!" he greeted, as though she were an old friend. His voice had a slight rasp to it, as it had had the night before. "So glad you're awake. I thought I was going to have to force it upon you myself..."

So many questions attacked her head at once. She settled on one. "How do you know my name?"

"Ah, see, there's the fun part." He chuckled. "I know all about you. Widowed to Sean Moore–loved the chain and ring, by the way, it'll make a lovely sell–detective of the NYPD's 11th Precinct, partners with Detective Mike Hanson and"–He paused slightly, his tone changing into one of disgust–"Doctor Henry Morgan."

Emotions swept over her all at once–confusion, anger, sadness, disgust, discomfort–but she didn't express them, only turned her face to the ground.

"Who are you?"

"That's none of your business, princess," he replied smoothly. "You can call me Adam if you want."

"Don't call me princess," she bit in a retort.

The man looked at his feet, chuckled, and marched over to her. His hot breath hit her as he spoke an inch from her face.

"You're right; I shouldn't," he decided, "because you're no princess here. You're my bitch."

**Author's Note:**

> stay tuned!  
> follow me on the tumble for the latest updates (or maybe not)  
> jenry-mortinez.tumblr.com


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